The Bowler Hat and Fedora
by JapanDreamer09
Summary: Six years ago, unexplained kidnappings and death tolls start to rise in Vale. Humans and Faunus blamed the other for these incidents. No one could be trusted. Then a bowler hat and a fedora met in a dark alley and start an unlikely quest to find the truth. This is where our story began.
1. The Bowler Hat

Welcome! My name is **JapanDreamer**!

A few things about myself: I've always love writing, and this is my first RWBY fanfic. I hope that through stories, my writing skills can improve. My schedule is unpredictable, but my motto is that I don't leave a story unfinished without notifying readers first. So regardless of the lack of updates, expect new chapter in the future.

Well, then, let's get this story started!

**Chapter 1:**

Roman Torchwick was a man that would need to be looked twice before figuring out who he was. At first glance, he could be described as a gentleman in his late twenties and with a flair for style. He wore red collared white lapel coat and a gray silk scarf wrapped around his pale neck. Always seen in his black gloved hand was a long black walking cane he named Melodic Cudel. However, hidden behind his long eyelashes and pixie smiling face was a cunning criminal with a flair of dramatics. His personal motto was that he needed to look pretty damn good when committing crimes.

And that's what he was planning for tonight.

There would've been a beautiful full moon shining from above, but the looming gray clouds overhead covered parts of the white orb, allowing only patches of moonlight onto the streets. The heavy humidity in the air gave off a reeking smell, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Roman was almost relieved when he arrived at his destination.

Almost.

Back in the day when the underworld ruled this area (well, the underworld still did but less openly than before), Il Tavolo Bianco was a small and quiet Italian restaurant where the mafia boss and henchmen would sit in the back, smoke cigars, and drink brandy. Now, the restaurant has become one of the exclusive and hottest clubs in town. Il Tavolo Bianco became the From Dawn to Dust night club.

Neon lights replaced the dark windows, and the usual silence was shattered with loud hip hop music. The once deserted and inconspicuous door now had a long queue of people, hoping to get an opportunity to join the party with the hippest DJs, the chilliest drinks, and, many whispered, the best drugs.

And Roman Torchwick was disgusted with it all. This was the last place he would come to have a good time. In fact, what kind of moron would have fun in a place like this? Overpriced drinks, overpriced entrance fee, and overpriced everything. Nevertheless, this was the meet point, so he cut to the front of the long line.

"Yo dude! The line is like, uh, back there." Roman turned to see some snot-nose teenager trying to act all tough. He didn't even look old enough to get in the party without some sort of fake ID. Urgh, another reason why to hate clubs. Snobby and immature little kids to deal with.

"Thanks kid," Roman smiled with a sarcastic voice. "Now I know where the underage children hang out." He turned away before the teenager slowly realized that he had just been insulted. Now at the front of the door, Roman showed the large and muscular bodyguard the exclusive VIP Dust membership card. The bodyguard took a look at it and confirmed its authenticity.

"Right this way, Mr. Ruben." The bodyguard ushered Roman in as he casually slipped the counterfeit card back into his pocket. The thick doors opened and Roman was engulfed in darkness and flashing lights and loud music. How could anybody walk around this place?

"Hello, would like some company?" a hostess came up and asked, hastily putting away her lipstick case and fixing her black cocktail dress. She had shoulder-length red hair that curled and rested on her shoulder and big doe eyes that were too big for her small face. Roman gave a charming smile at the lady. She was cute. Polite even. But unfortunately, not cute enough to distract him.

"Actually, I'm only in the mood for drinks." Without a second glance, he headed over to the private bar section. Here, the atmosphere was more subdue where all the loners watched, but didn't want to join in the fun. Twirling the cane in his hand like a baton, Roman placed it next to him as he smoothly slid into the nearest stool. Compared to the others, he stood out way too much here. He ignored all of the unsavory stares, and turned his attention to the overweight bartender.

"Gin. On the rocks." Roman drummed his fingers against the polished wooden counter until the drink came. Leaving his black bowler hat on, Roman swirled the alcohol around in the glass as his dark green eyes swept across the area. The club was in full swing and packed with customers. Many young hostesses crowded around flamboyant guys who were showing off their wealth with their gaudy, expensive watches, wads of cash that were stuffed down women's cleavages, and the long line of empty bottles of alcohol. It was a disgusting and an obnoxious sight to see, and Roman found himself draining the glass of gin to remove the images from his mind.

There was a large dance floor in the center of the place that was jammed pack. Some loud music (could he call loud booming sounds music?) blared through the entire place. Twenty minutes had passed and after going through two glasses of gin, the bored Roman pulled out a cigar. However, he didn't light it. Instead, he twirled it between his fingers as though contemplating whether or not to smoke.

_Where is that guy?_

"Hey, can I trade that cigar for this pack of cigarettes?" Roman turned around irritated when he realized that standing before him was a pale man in a black tux and wearing red shades. An odd combination to see since this restaurant was dimly lit. In the man's gloved hands was an open pack of cigarettes. Curiously, Roman looked into box.

He smiled.

"Not what you would call a fair trade, but I'm in a generous mood," Roman said, handing the thick cigar to the man and taking the box. The man walked off and Roman slipped the packet into his pocket. Finishing his drink, he tossed a couple of one-Lien bills onto the counter, grabbed his cane, flirted with the redheaded hostess for good measure, and headed back outside. Even now, under the awning, there was still a long line of people, eager to enter into the bright lights and glamour.

Slowly feeling the effects of the alcohol, Roman frowned slightly as he looked up at the sky. There was a light drizzle of rain coming down now and he pulled the collar up on his white suit. He should've brought an umbrella with him, but he figured he would have look stupid carrying a full-sized umbrella and a cane. And he was definitely not going to buy a compact one that cheap hipsters these days carry. Not fashionable to hold or use.

Avoiding the crowd, Roman walked in the opposite direction; away from the club. Instead of calling for a taxi, he continued down the dark and wet street. The place was silent except for the occasional late night shoppers hurrying in to the next store to get out of the rain. Pretending to admire a display of plates, Roman took a glance around the area to make sure no one was following him. It was important to be on the lookout, especially at this time of night. Deciding that the black cat on the other side of the street was of no danger, he turned at the street corner and found himself in a long dark, but most importantly, empty alley.

Here, there was no one in sight except the lone street lamp, chain-linked fence, and a couple of trashcans. Double-checking the area, he fished out another cigar from his pocket and this time a silver-colored lighter as well. Placing the lit cigar in his mouth, he pulled out the packet of cigarettes.

Or what appeared to be a packet of cigarettes.

He took one out and unrolled it into a parchment of white paper. The ignited end of his cigar gave enough light for him to read the scrawled handwriting.

It didn't take long to memorize the contents. Roman took the cigar from his mouth and let the flame burn the paper. He watched the white turn into black as the paper shriveled and crumbled, floating and then disintegrating upon contact of the large puddle of rain water. Roman never understood the point for this telephone game, but hey, if his client wanted to add all this secrecy, who was he to judge?

_And now for the payment,_ Roman thought as he reached for the next rolled up paper. Suddenly, the calm patter of rain was shattered with a clacking echo. And sirens.

_Cops? Damnit!_ Placing his back against the wall, Roman immediately tensed as he fumbled with the packet and hid it in his coat. His cane hovered over the ground by a couple of inches. Melodic Cudel was not just any ordinary black cane. This one could be used in combat as a grappling hook, staff, and a rifle. At the foot end, a reticle would be raised for aiming while uncovering the muzzle. Unfortunately, the black cane didn't come with a silencer, so unless he wanted to be heard, Roman prefer not to fire this concealed weapon unless absolutely necessary. As Roman waited, the footsteps and the occasional splash of water got louder and louder. Feeling his heartbeat pounding, Roman could make out a mysterious figure, heading to his location.

Once the shadow was bathed in orange hue from the street lamp, Roman lowered his cane. It was not the police but a woman.

_Strangely dressed one as well. _On such a dark and rainy night, she was decked in nothing but black. Black overblouse, black leggings, and even black gloves. Her black boots continued to give an irritating clacking sound against the pavement that made Roman's head pound. The most curious thing she had on though was the black fedora resting on top of her head.

_A very strange accessory for a woman to wear…_

The woman slowed down to a walking gait. Slowly gasping for air, she glanced behind her as the sirens got louder and louder… and then softer and softer. She breathed a sigh of relief when the noise dissipated. Knowing that she was still not out of danger yet, she tried hard to look inconspicuous and kept her head down. The fedora hat kept her face well hidden in the shadows. Still, Roman found his eyes drawn to the woman, especially the lower half of her torso. Tall, lean, and long waisted. Girl had a nice figure. He wouldn't be surprised if she was a model by day and by night… well, now Roman was curious.

The fedora woman was oblivious to Roman's existence and passed him without so much of a glance. Slighted by this woman's unawareness of him, the slightly drunk Roman decided to read the other parchments later and followed this attractive lady. She was apparently lost in her own thoughts to still be ignorant that a handsome gentleman like him was right behind her. Roman cleared his throat.

"You know, a lady should not walk around in the dark like this." The clacking sounds stopped and the woman turned to the sound of Roman's voice. For the first time, Roman got a good look of her appearance.

She had a pale face, half hidden behind her wheat-colored hair that went down to her waist. Her amber eyes flashed with fear before slowly realizing that this stranger was alone and was dressed too flashy to be an undercover cop.

"What's your name babycakes?" Maybe it was the alcohol, but for some reason, Roman couldn't stop himself from flirting. He found himself strangely drawn to this mysterious woman. And (why not just admit it?) she was smoking hot.

The woman glared for a good long moment before decided that Roman was not worth her while. Her nose twitched from the smell of alcohol from Roman's breath. Ignoring the lame sweet talks, she continued to walk down the road. However, this didn't deter her stalker and instead, amplified his interest in her. With unexpected swiftness, he caught up with her and tapped on her shoulder.

"Hey Fedora Girl, I was only asking a quest-."

"Get away from me," the woman snarled like a ferocious dog. Her amber eyes seemed to flash red in the darkness. For the first time tonight, Roman felt a strange shiver of fear running down his back and took several steps back.

"Whoa, no need for the cold shoulder Miss Fedora. Just want to know why you were in such a hurry," Roman said hastily, hands up in the air. However, by doing so, the Melodic Cudel's end was pointing at her face. Whether it was because of what Roman said or the woman realized that the cane was also a gun, the expression on her face suddenly darkened and without warning, she charged forward, ready to strike.

Out of pure reflex, Roman pulled the trigger on his cane before realizing his horrible mistake. The bullet came roaring out of the end of his cane and toward the woman's face. The bright muzzle flash lightened the alley, and the woman, with remarkable reflex, sidestepped to avoid getting hit.

BOOM! The pavement behind her exploded, scattering debris everywhere, and the noise echoed through the entire alley. She lost her balance and slammed against the ground. Her fedora slipped off her hair and fell into a puddle of water.

For the first time, the woman flinched in fear and grabbed the soaked fedora. But it was too late.

"Wow." Roman's eyes widened and gave an amused grin. He lowered his cane slightly. "It looks like I'm not the only one with secrets underneath my hat."

**A Writer's Comment**

So, what got me writing this… Well it all started when I watched RWBY when it came out. And immediately, after watching the first episode, I found myself fascinated of a certain man named Roman Torchwick. Seeing his antics and personality got me wondering. Who is this guy? What is his goal? And what is up with that ridiculous hairstyle? From there (and after many episodes), the number of questions grew, but they all lead to one main question. What happened in the past that led to the beginnings of RWBY?

And thus, the story was born.

Now of course, we still have quite a few things that are not mentioned in the show (like ages of certain people or names of certain places), so those few things here are based my own interpretation. However, we will see characters we know show up along with new characters.

Thank you for reading and I hope to see you in the next chapter.

**-JapanDreamer**


	2. The Fedora

Hope everybody had a good New Years.

Enjoy!

**Chapter 2:**

Tasha Garou cursed under her breath. Her luck turned from bad to okay to worst in a mere twenty minutes. First, she was chased by human cops and just when she lost them, she went ahead and got her secret exposed to a drunken stranger. And an extremely ridiculous looking one at that. What sort of man would wear eyeliner? And his red hair… Is it natural to have that bright of a color?

"So what animal are you? Standing on all four like that you got to be a fox or dog, right?" The tomato hair man asked as he casually pointed the butt of his cane at the top of her head again. Anger coursed through her body, but she didn't move. With the gun cane still pointed at her, Tasha could only glare at the pair of green eyes. She wondered if he was planning to shoot again. He did seem just as surprise as her when his cane discharged a round, but she wasn't going to take that risk again. She would need to fight and knock him out quickly. Up-close and fast.

Casually and behind her back, she peeled off her glove and raised her hand to her mouth. But before she could do it, the sounds of sirens tore through the silence. Blue and red lights reflected off the brick walls.

"Tch! Cops!" The man said, looking behind him. The noise had made him sober and alert. Taking advantage of the distraction, Tasha sped off into the darkness in the opposite direction. She heard the man shout something at her but ignored it. She was gaining the confidence back and knew she would be able to slip away. The guy won't use his gun cane again now that the cops were here. So, the best thing to do was to escape through the upper level. With acrobatic skills and dexterity, Tasha jumped and climbed up the fire escape ladder. It took her mere seconds to get on the roof. From there and now pumped with adrenaline, she ran as fast and hard as she could.

The night view was gorgeous from up here and normally, Tasha would sit on the rooftop and stargaze. But for now, she concentrated on jumping from rooftop to rooftop. It was a rather exhilarating feeling, and Tasha felt like she was on top of the world. The rush didn't stop even after she arrived at her destination. Landing on the roof, she stopped and peeked over the edge. Unlike the modern and wider streets of Vale, this area was completely deserted and not a working street light in this ten mile radius. Rickety apartments rose and fell here as each new wave of refugees made their ways into this part of town. No one bothered to suggest improving the living condition here. This was the place that the unwanted lived.

The building she was standing on top of was one of the few in the entire distract that actually had working indoor plumbing and heater. The shabby apartment was dark. But then again it was always dark. With grace and dexterity, Tasha lowered herself down. Ignoring the dark windows, she landed in front of apartment number 809.

Home sweet home.

She unlocked the door with a 'click', and stepped inside the drafty hallway. Despite the peeling yellow wallpaper and the mildew smell, the rent here was expensive. This apartment consisted of a basic but tiny kitchen, bathroom, living room, and one bedroom. It was a palace compared to those 9 by 9 prison cells. Feeling hungry, she head to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and wasn't surprise to see it empty. On the other hand, the room wasn't.

"Where have you been?" Tasha cursed under her breath and slammed the fridge shut. She was hoping that he would be asleep. But the chances of that were always slim to none. The guy never slept. At least not when she wanted him to.

"Out," Tasha stated curtly. Ignoring the stare from the living room couch, she took off her soaked fedora and hung it on the coat rack. Seeing it dripping water onto the tile floor, she frowned a bit and decided that she needed to go to dry cleaners tomorrow. Wet from the rain, she shivered from the cool air and quickly grabbed a towel hanging in the bathroom.

"You were _out_ causing trouble." The voice was deep and somber.

"So what?" Tasha didn't deny it as she dried her wheat hair.

"Tasha," the person said in an impatient voice, "you cannot keep doing this. You are a member of-."

"Of an organization with an _incompetent _and_ cowardly_ leader."

"Tasha," the male Faunus repeated again, this time with anger. "If people saw you and learned that you were part of the White Fang, this organization's reputation will go down the drain. All our hard work to gain equality will become undone."

"You think all the other members are perfect little angels, don't you?" Tasha said in a cold voice. "That they turn the other cheek when they are bullied? We fight back. Just like any human or beast on this planet."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Birdy was harassed by humans. They almost torched her shop. SHE could've died." There was a long silence before the male Faunus answered back.

"And that's your excuse for your misdoings?" His question flared Tasha's anger. Why couldn't he see? Why couldn't they all see? Why does he keep defending the humans like they were little children who didn't know any better?

"Better excuse than what those humans had. They had it coming."

"And now, because of your actions, those humans have an excuse to hate Faunus even more."

"I wore the hat," Tasha said in her defense. "They didn't know I'm a Faunus. They didn't even know they got their asses handed to them by a woman." Tasha remembered the successful sweeping kick and disarming moves she performed before she threw those men in the garbage truck.

"And what happens if your hat had fallen off?" Tasha immediately flashed back to the event in the alley and felt her stomach churning.

"Tasha, did something else happen?" Tasha was snapped back into reality and realized her silence was highly suspicious. Feeling irritated, she walked off to her room.

"Tasha, we are not done."

"I am." She made sure she slammed the door hard enough as a warning for him to keep out.

Cursing, she tore off her wet outer garments, threw them on the floor, and changed into a white tank top and gray sweatpants. All the while, the same question was churning through her mind.

_What if that tomato-haired human described her to the cops? But he seemed annoyed and freaked out when he heard the sirens. So maybe he ran away. He looked shady enough. Hopefully, he'll keep his mouth shut in front of the cops if he did decide to stick around. But that mouth of his… urgh… he did love to talk nonstop…_

Needing a distraction, Tasha started to clean up the room. After two weeks of neglect, wrinkled clothes and empty soda cans laid scattered around the small area. She dumped the clothes into the hamper and threw the cans into the trash can. Then, she fluffed the pillows and folded the crumpled blanket onto the mattress that was considered her bed. The only thing she didn't need to clean was her desk that was neatly organized with a stack of flyers, a pile of important documents, and pens.

Finally done, Tasha wrapped the thin blanket around her arms, sat down in front of the window, and stared out. The clouds were dissipating and revealing a shining orb hanging in the night sky. Her damp long hair cloaked her bare shoulders and her breath fogged up the window. Tasha sighed softly, feeling all the anger slowly leaving her body. The night sky looked the best after a rainy day. Even in darkness, there were always tiny lights of hope, glittering across the sky. She noticed her reflection on the glass pane and saw nothing but sadness in her eyes now.

_Wolf…_ If Tasha had to answer that tomato hair human's question, it would've been wolf. The ears on her head were the same color as her hair except for the black tips. The feature that she wanted to be most proud of was the feature that has been a subject of ridicule and shame by the rest of the human world. Feeling depressed now, she curled up and leaned against the window. She felt a sense of weariness now and felt her eyes getting heavier and heavier. Soon, she was asleep.

**Author's Notes**

Meet Tasha Garou, the first Faunus introduced in this story. We can see that she has dealt with discrimination with humans and is rather bitter towards them. Now the question is what is the current situation with humans and Faunus at this time? We'll see in the next chapter. XP

Currently, we're only scratching the surface of what is yet to come. All the players are not here yet. Some are familiar faces we've met before while others are new.

To those who enjoy this story, I hope to see you in future chapters. I would also love some feedback on this story, especially in terms of grammar or story flow. It will help me as a writer.

Thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.

**-JapanDreamer**


	3. The Lion, the Wizard and the Clock Tower

This chapter is dedicated to Monty Oum – for his inspirations and providing the spark for this story.

**Chapter 3:**

Sitting in his quiet and dark office, Ozpin listened to the splatter of raindrops against the window. It hasn't let up for the past few days. Maybe they should have rescheduled this meeting. But if he did that, it would've been extremely rude. After all, he was the one who insisted on this meeting.

_He's running late. Though that should be expected. He always hated the rain. And thunder. If only those were the only thing that kept him away from here all this time._ _How long has it been since they last met? Seven… no ten… definitely ten years. Wow… Has it really been that long since they last talked?_

Getting up and walking towards the window, Ozpin stared out into the darkness of Vale. There was a greenish tinge in the window pane from the beacon light of the tower. Reflected back at him was a tall man whose ruffled gray hair still had streaks of black. He wore formal attire – a black suit, a black vest, and a green undershirt. An olive green scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. Green tinted spectacles rested on his nose bridge but were unable to hide his weary brown eyes.

Ozpin could scarcely recognize the man before him. Where was that exuberant youth he saw in the mirror years ago? The one that had big dreams and was ready to take on the world?

Located high above the city, Ozpin's office was in the important Beacon tower. The landmark served as a lighthouse, casting a green glow high above the clouds. The metal gears that decorated the ceiling created another dull 'thunk' sound as they meshed with each other. It was a lulling sound, reminding Ozpin that one could still find order in a disordered world.

Ten minutes later, a sharp beep resonated in the room. Ozpin quickly looked down at the computer screen before turning expectedly towards the door. "Come in."

The metal doors slid open and in stepped a hooded person even taller than the six and half feet tall Ozpin. Droplets of water slid and splattered against the pristine marble floor. The person growled in frustration that sounded like an angry snarl. However, Ozpin merely smiled, unafraid.

"Leo," Ozpin said warmly, walking up to his guest. "I'm so glad you could come."

The man Leo jerked his head up as if just realizing Ozpin was standing there. The wet hood was pushed back to reveal a heavyset man with long black hair and a matching beard that covered his neck. In between the beard was a ferocious set of canine teeth that looked ready to tear something apart. The visitor was fearsome looking, but hidden underneath that thick tangle of dark hair was a pair of terrified eyes. Always glancing around for the nearest escape route.

"Professor Ozpin," Leo said slowly. His voice rumbled like the thunder outside. "It has been a while. Or should I call you Headmaster now?" Hesitating slightly, Leo held out his hand. No, not a hand. A paw. An enormous paw with claws sharp enough to rip out a man's throat.

"Please, Ozpin is just fine. I've been a teacher here longer than the headmaster. And I've known you longer than that." He extended his hand out as well without hesitation. Leo's paw engulfed his hand, but his shake was firm and gentle. Ozpin then pointed to the teapot on the table.

"Coffee?" Leo nodded but remained rooted in place, watching Ozpin turned his back and hummed softly as he poured into a large white mug. Steam rose into the air, and the thick aroma filled the room. "Here you are."

"You haven't changed a bit," Leo said as he sniffed the coffee with trepidation, "Black, no sugar."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Ozpin said, pouring a cup for himself. He pointed to the chair before him. "Please sit." After removing his cloak, Leo sat comfortably down and looked pleasantly surprised. Normally, Leo could never chairs to accommodate his girth and preferred to stand or even sit on the ground. He wondered if Ozpin went out of his way to find a chair that would accommodate his size.

"You've gotten taller," Ozpin remarked lightly as he eased himself into his swivel chair. The table before them was designed like the ceiling – countless of gears turning underneath a large glass top.

"And still growing," Leo admitted though he sounded less enthusiastic. Feeling a need to keep the topic going, he added, "You grew quite a bit yourself since graduation."

"Well, I think it is a good thing. Can't expect to show authority if you're shorter than your own students." Ozpin's tone suggested that he was clearly trying to lighten the dismal mood.

"You sound happy. How are things here?"

Ozpin didn't respond until he finished taking a sip from his mug of coffee and looked at Leo straight in the eye. "The school board has finally agreed," Ozpin said. "Faunus will be able to attend any combat schools under the same requirements. No discrimination.

"I wanted to give you the good news personally, but also provide the necessary documents of proof for you." There was a long silence as Leo slowly processed this information.

"Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me," Ozpin said, humbly, about to take another sip of coffee, "I would've done this even if you didn't ask."

"I'm thanking you as a friend." Ozpin's hand froze in realization of the implications of those words. He looked up and saw Leo adamantly staring at the ground. The sight was rather nostalgic in its own way.

"I'm honored then." Ozpin smiled warmly. An awkward silence filled the room before Ozpin decided to continue.

"With the new students coming here, I'm sure that the school will be very busy for years to come. We need to train the young minds and show them a world where we can all stand on equal grounds."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to help you in that way." The light mood immediately evaporated.

"What do you mean?" Ozpin asked sharply. He immediately placed his mug on the table. Flinching slightly, Leo sighed.

"I'm steeping down from my position." There was a sudden silence except for the meshing sounds of gears from above.

"You can't be serious."

Terrified to speak, Leo continued to remain silent and winced slightly from the sharp tone of Ozpin's voice. For the first time tonight, Ozpin looked angry. Out of Leo's three former team members back in the days, Ozpin was definitely the calmest one in any given situation, but if somehow angered, he was the most dangerous.

"Are you running away again," Ozpin said coldly. He suddenly flashed back to their school days. No matter how hard he had worked, Leo would just give up in the end when it matter the most. Ozpin always found Leo hiding under the bed right before their missions. "You cannot abandon those Faunus without thinking of the consequences. You do not have that luxury anymore. You're not a kid anymore."

"I'm telling you this not because I've given up," Leo said sharply, startling Ozpin, "I'm telling you this because there is a looming threat. If I am to remain the face of the White Fang leader…" Leo fell silent for a moment before continuing.

"I'm not stepping down just yet. I still have some things to do. I just… need time…" Leo clutched his coffee cup tightly. He was still refusing to look at Ozpin in the eye.

"And what about the future of the White Fang?" Ozpin asked tentatively.

"It is better you don't know."

"Leo, we are friends. You just said so yourself."

"And as a friend, I'm begging you to not ask. If the White Fang members knew I was talking to you…" Leo fell silent again, realizing he said too much, and Ozpin frowned. He grabbed his cup and slowly took a sip.

"I've… heard rumors about the recent activities…. Is it that bad?"

"Not yet."

The taste of coffee in Ozpin's mouth became sour.

"I have not shown any progress ever since I started this organization. Don't deny it -" Leo added, noticing Ozpin opening his mouth in protest – "Discrimination cannot be erased overnight. Faunus are being brutally treated to this very day. They want it to stop. And they want it to stop now.

"As much as I wish it, I cannot give them that," Leo continued after reflecting bitterly of the past, "They are so focus on the 'now' that they forget about the 'future'. And unfortunately, I'm the one they blame. Their rage… It's frightening… Sometimes, I wish I could run away." Leo closed his eyes, feeling the waves of fury wash over him, drowning him in sorrow. He tried hard to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes.

"In a way, Ozpin, you're right. I haven't changed. I am-" Leo laughed bitterly, "still that cowardly lion that would tremble under my bed before every mission."

Ozpin fell silent. He had asked for this meeting in hopes of bringing good news, yet that all seemed to pale and became nonexistent after Leo foreshadowed the looming dangers.

"If you're not giving up, then what is your plan?"

"I have already have chosen a successor. Someone younger… and perhaps more assertive than I am."

"You have a lot of confidence in him."

"Her," Leo corrected, "However, her life, like all of her peers, had been ruled by fear. She can be… frustrated at times. I need to train her well to make sure she won't stray off the wrong path when the time comes. But if I can't…" Leo paused ever so slight and quickly tried to cover it, "I want you to guide her. Help her."

Ozpin stared at Leo with disbelief. Did Leo say what he thought he said?

"Leo," he started slowly and carefully, "I believe what the White Fang stands for. You know that. But you cannot expect the Faunus community to accept me, especially in times like these. And this successor you have chosen… it is not a guarantee she will accept my help or want it."

"And yet, I know you will be there for her regardless. You do tend to stick your nose into matters no matter what." Ozpin scoffed in disbelief at the statement, but Leo knew the truth.

"Ozpin, we've haven't seen each other for more than ten years. And yes, I am to blame for that. Nevertheless, all the years before that, I've been blessed with a good friend. If there is anyone I can trust, it is you."

There was a soft rumbling of thunder from outside, and Ozpin stared hard into Leo's brown eyes, scanning for traces of the friend who lived in fear for his life every day. There was still that apprehensive look, but tonight, Ozpin saw something else.

"You are not."

"What?"

"The same cowardly Leo you were ten years ago. You are a leader with a visionary goal for the future of Faunus."

Leo gave a sad smile. "And unfortunately, that is not what they want."

**Author's Notes**

The news about Monty Oum… I'm going to admit, it hit me pretty hard. I know there are many fanfic writers on this site who has paid their respects in their stories, and I'm moved that the community has taken the time to do so. So thank you. And thank you Monty Oum.

Chapter updates are still sporadic, but they'll come sooner or later.

Thank you all for reading. I'll see you in the next chapter.

**-JapanDreamer**


	4. That's My Uncle

Hi everybody! Another update! :D

Unfortunately, it will probably be a while before I can update again. I've been jam pack with work and I'm still working on the outline of the next few chapters. :(

Enjoy!

**Chapter 4:**

Tasha could never recall how _they_ punished her first or even the last time. But she definitely remembered what happened on the fifth.

She did not know him other than the fact he was male in his late teens and had bull horns sticking out of his reddish brown hair. He was new. Which explained why he fought back. Everybody else who had been here longer would accept commands and punishments without much of a fight. For the past three years, eight-year old Tasha had watched them move through the motions of life. Their eyes were lifeless pools of emptiness. Their ears were deaf to cries of pain and screams of victims around them. They welcomed death as it was the only way to be released from this hellhole. Tasha remembered seeing an elderly Faunus actually smiling right before he died. His wrinkly face looked like a sunken pumpkin that had been baking in the sun for too long. It was the first time he looked so alive in Tasha's memory.

This time, the Faunus was being put on display, being forced into a fistfight with one of _them_. Tasha could see money being exchanged and knew that _they_ were betting to see who would be the first to fall. Some Faunus had told her that it was called gambling. _They_ did that a lot. To _them_, it was a form of entertainment.

Barefooted and malnourished, the bull Faunus was actually holding his ground. He had a black eye and his lip was split open and took each blow to the face while standing. Still, he fought back, dealing with same amount of blows to the opponent whose face was incredibly swollen. Although she should've have run off, Tasha didn't move from her spot. Something inside told her that she was witnessing something important. She needed to embed this image into her head.

Then the bull Faunus' good fortune ran out. It all happened so fast, but when it was over, the sight was horrible. The head was twisted 180 degrees and fell flat into the dirt ground while the bloody chest pointed to the sky. But it wasn't the Faunus on the ground. It was the man.

All hell broke loose after that. This time, with blades. Tasha watched with horror at the butchery, unable to scream. But the Faunus screamed. He screamed a lot.

Finally, one of those higher rank guards came out of nowhere and shouted at _them_, telling _them _to stop. _They_ did, but not before one of _them _managed to slam his boot into the Faunus' head. The male human who told _them_ to stop immediately went over to the Faunus.

It didn't look good. He was not moving, and the dirt ground was soaked in red. Tasha could pick up the faint sound of gasping. The man slowly got up and turned to _them_. In a quiet voice, he asked _them _to step aside.

But why? The Faunus killed one _their_ own. _They_ should be getting a medal. That's what _they_ kept saying, but the man repeated again for _them_ to step aside. And _they_ did. Grudgingly. The male human slipped the rifle off his back and aimed it at the Faunus' head. He mumbled something before pulling the trigger. Tasha flinched as the sound of death echoed across the camp.

Immediately without pausing, the man took something out of his pocket. A small vial with red powder. Tasha flinched as though just looking at the vial would kill her.

Dust… That's what _they_ called it. It was what the Faunus had been forced to dig up in these mines.

Getting down on one knee, the man carefully poured some of the powder onto the body. Upon contact, the body suddenly burst into flames. They consumed the flesh, turning it into a black grotesque mess. Black smoke spewed into the red sky into an ugly smear. A strong gust a wind blew the smoke toward the direction where Tasha stood. She felt tears slid down her cheek. Unable to hold back, she choked out a sob.

The man with the rifle suddenly turned and spotted Tasha who had been standing there the entire time in silence up to this point.

"Shit," the man muttered, lowering his weapon. Soon all eyes were on her. Frightened, Tasha ran. But she didn't get far. The chains bounded on her wrist and ankles slowed her down. She was dragged back by her hair, and her feet scraped against the rocky ground. She screamed until someone kicked her, and they turned to whimpers.

"You fucking idiot! Let go of her! She's just a kid!"

"It wouldn't shut up!" Tasha crumpled to the ground and curled up immediately into a ball. She bit her hand, refusing to let her body make another sound. A warm taste of blood filled her mouth. Now closer to the fire, Tasha could smell the burnt flesh. The overwhelming scent made her nauseous, and she lost track of the conversation while trying to dampen the pain.

"Why the fuck did you guys let her watch that?! Do you enjoy making a bloody spectacle of yourself in front of children?!"

"It ain't our fault. We didn't see it. Besides, it's just a Faunus."

"Why are you giving me excuses?! You idiots know to begin with that fighting against Faunus is illegal! And killing them too!"

"We told you, it killed one of us first!"

_It… that's how they all see us. A thing._

"You guys should've thought of that before you allowed Riley to fight against him," the man said drily. "Tell me, how many of you betted that Riley would lose? And how many of you are going to tell his family that you did?" No reply now.

_But not this man. He called that Faunus a 'him'. And he called me a 'her'._

Somehow finding the courage, Tasha looked up at the towering man who stared back down. She saw something in his eyes but they were emotions she never seen before in humans.

Guilt. Shame. Sadness.

But why? Why would this man show these emotions to her?

He stared at her and looked lost in thought for a moment before turning his attention back to _them_.

"You, pick her up," the man said to one of _them_, pointing to Tasha, "and come with me. We need to deal with this."

She screamed. And kept screaming as _they_ dragged her. _They_ were going to beat her up. Just like _they_ did to that Faunus. And then that man will shoot her in the head. Just like he did to that Faunus. And then _they'll _burn her. Just like _they _did to that Faunus.

She didn't stop screaming until someone finally slammed a rifle's butt into her head and knocked her unconscious.

…

_Present day…_

Tasha woke up with a bad headache and a rumbling stomach. She groaned and slowly got up. She blinked in surprise at the brightness in her room. After a whole week of thunderstorms, the rain finally let up, giving way to blue sky and sunshine. Light poured in, revealing the usually invisible dust particles that floated around lazily in her room. With her stomach rumbling again, Tasha finally got up to get ready. After swallowing a couple of aspirin, she changed into a simple teal tunic, black leggings, and a pair of gray gladiator sandals. She didn't take a single glance at the cracked mirror on her table as she dressed.

The living room couch was devoid of Faunus life. The blanket had been neatly folded and put to the side. Shelly must have gone to the bookstore. It was the only place where the Faunus would go. There was a tray of tiny sandwiches without their crusts wrapped in cellophane on the kitchen table. Tacked on the kitchen's corkboard, there was one simple message.

_Eat._

Tasha scoffed after reading the neon green note, plucked it off the board, crumpled it into a wad, and tossed it into the trash can. She ripped of the cellophane from the plate and inspected the top sandwich.

Cucumber… They were all cucumber…

Tasha frowned at the vegetarian choice her roommate decided on. She knew he meant well but this… This was what happens when one put a meat eater and vegetarian in the same room. Nevertheless, Tasha ate half of the content and stuck the rest into the now slightly full fridge. Taking out an energy drink, Tasha found herself relaxed for the first time in a long while. She was confused for a moment before she knew why.

A whole week… A whole week and no cops at her door. No screaming humans crying out for her blood… She wasn't out of the woods yet, but she knew that with each passing day, it was less and less likely that the red-hair man she met had spilled her secret that rainy night. At the very least she could tell Shelly 'I-told-you-so' when he gets back even though she too had been anxious during the whole ordeal. Taking a look at the clock, Tasha realized that she was running late and grabbed her knapsack. She was about to reach her black fedora hanging from the hat rack but quickly stopped.

_That was close… _Quickly correcting herself, she grabbed a white cloche hat. It covered her wolf ears perfectly.

Stepping out of the apartment, Tasha was relieved to feel the warmth of the sun basking her face. Even the narrow streets actually looked inviting today. Heavy pools of rainwater created by potholes still dotted across the street, and the sound of traffic and sirens echoed against the walls. No one could afford a car here, and those who could, would never buy unless they wanted it to be stripped of its parts by the end of the day.

Tasha's destination was toward the sound of the sirens and sure enough, there was a car accident on the east side of the Commercial District, right in front of the Dust shop run by that balding gray-haired grandpa. Poor guy, he always seemed to have the worst luck despite his booming businesses.

Running late, Tasha hurried past without so much of a glance until she arrived on West Ave. where the streets were cleaner and shops filled with cosmetics and luxury items. She slowed down once she got to a colorful store. The glass windows displayed rows of three tier cakes with painted flowers and other pretty things in frosting, cupcakes of different flavors, and, Tasha's favorite, colorful plates of macaroons that piled into a neat pyramid. Even after twenty years in business, Sweet Birdie's Boutique still had admirers staring longingly at the display. Children begged their mothers for a slice of cake or perhaps a cupcake while women looked forlornly at the bakery goods despite reminding themselves that they were on a diet. Heading to the back door, Tasha wasn't surprise to see an elderly woman taking out the trash. Her white hair was tied into a neat bun and had a streak of red in the center, giving her a somewhat trendy appearance.

"Birdy!" The woman looked up, saw Tasha, and immediately grinned, showing the deep dimples on her cheeks.

"Tasha! You look so adorable!" Birdy exclaimed, rushing over and giving Tasha a quick peck on the cheek. "But we are working today! You can't show so much skin! Or else all the men will have their eyes on you and not on me!" Tasha laughed as her boss puffed her cheeks in frustration.

Chihiro Sarus (nicknamed Birdy by her friends) is the renowned patissiere who hired Tasha on the spot after seeing her skills. Despite her age and chubby appearance, Birdy acted as if she was twenty years younger. A woman in her late fifties, she was just five feet but had the loudest voice Tasha had ever heard.

"Did you walk all the way from the Projects again?"

"Yes, ma'am." Tasha had long ago given up trying to explain to the elderly Faunus that the Residential District was no longer called the 'Projects'.

"Aiyooo! It is dangerous over there. You need to move closer here! I have a space upstairs I could rent to you. I give it to you cheap."

Tasha merely shook her head. "Sorry Birdy, but I can't let you do that. Besides, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Hmph. Women like you always fight, fight, fight and never get a boyfriend. Now I know a dashing looking Faunus from the bank who I think-."

"Oh would you look at the time! I need to get to work." Tasha quickly step into the store before her boss could get another word in. Once Birdy went into matchmaking mode, there was no stopping her… or the teasing from the other staff members. It was one of the few ways to get Tasha blushing from head to toe, and her coworkers would never pass such an opportunity.

"Morning Tasha!" Eliza said from behind the cashier register. She poked her head to the back of the hallway and gave a cheerful wave.

"Morning!" Tasha could hear the usual crowd of customers mingling at the front and knew that today was going to be busy again. All the other workers were already doing prep work and greeted Tasha as she came in.

"Running late again I see," a ginger hair guy called out as he pulled out a tray of sweet cinnamon rolls from the oven. He flashed a devilish smile that was popular among the female customers. "Make sure you eat something. Wouldn't want your stomach to growl in front of the customers again."

"Shut up Kevin." Ignoring the snickers from her colleagues, Tasha hurried to the locker room and took out her white uniform from the hanger. She tied her hair into a messy ponytail and changed. She went to the small sink and started to wash her hands but flinched.

Burn marks twisted around like tiny angry snakes. They were old scars from the past, but she could never get over how grotesque they look. After so many years, she should be used to seeing the burns, but, sometimes, especially if she was in a good mood, merely glancing at them would jolt her back into reality. Maybe if she saved some money, she could hide them or remove them with those surgical technologies they offered at this "rich people" district, but hiding scars meant to be ashamed and want to forget. That was something Tasha refused to do.

"TASHA!" Birdy called out, "Are you okay? We need your help."

Tasha slowly closed her hands and pushed the memories out of her mind. No need to sour the mood just because of something like this. She threw her hat into the locker and put on her white toque. Taking deep breaths, she plastered a smile on her face for her coworkers.

Her mood improved as she worked. The smell of fresh pastries and sweets always put Tasha in a rare cheerful mood. Her fellow bakers were also jolly as well now that the rain had stopped and discussed all the things they were planning to do after work. Birdy would keep telling them to stop gossiping and get back to work before launching into a big juicy gossip she heard in the front of the café.

Noon time rolled around when Eliza poked her head into the workroom again. "Tasha!" She said excitedly. "He's here!" Tasha immediately perked up. There was only one person Eliza could be referring to. She quickly dried her hands and checked her appearance in the small mirror on the wall. She wasn't the only one excited.

"Aiyooo! Why would he come here now? It's so busy," Birdy said. She hurried out of the kitchen before Eliza stopped her at the threshold.

"Come on Birdy. You're the boss! You can't go flirting with the customer."

"Hmph! I'm not going to flirt! I just want to see." Birdy puffed out her cheeks in frustration at the impediment before her.

"Come on Birdy," someone called out, "It's Tasha he wants to see. We shouldn't disturb their reunion."

"Hmph, fine. Tasha! Make sure he buys something!" Tasha gave a forced laugh and tried to calm herself down. Unfortunately, one of her coworkers wasn't making it easy.

"Oh _Tawsha_, you have one strain of hair sticking out," Kevin teased. Out of all of all of Tasha's coworkers, he was the youngest (23 years old) and perhaps the most talented when it came to baking. He could whip up a tiramisu so creamy that it could make grown men cry. Customers (especially females) had been coming in more frequently due to his skills and not to mention his handsome looks. The only downside with working with such a guy was that running mouth of his. And his ridiculous way of saying her name – Tawsha.

"Shut up Kevin!" Tasha repeated, but turned red this time. "I hope your cupcakes burn!"

Everybody else grinned at her blushing face before she managed to escape the room. She could hear Birdy scolding Kevin for his insensitive words but knew that they fell on deaf ears. Tasha quickly tried to get her face to stop burning with embarrassment and slowly walked out to the front.

The front of the shop looked like an exact replica of a local French café with its white wall and polished hardwood floor. The white pendant lamps hung from the ceiling and above each miniature round tables. Black bentwood chairs were all occupied by customers sipping some hot tea or nibbling on a piece of pastry. Near the cash register was the black chalkboard that listed the specials of the day in white.

One individual stood out like a sore thumb – a tall black-haired man in his mid-thirties. He was the only one wearing a white t-shirt instead of a collared one and jeans covered with dry mud at the bottom instead of slacks. Instead of a briefcase, he had a tin lunchbox. His attire screamed working class, but he stood there with confidence and seemed ignorant of the stares around him.

"Uncle Tukson!" Tasha exclaimed and hurried over. He, in turn, grinned and gave her a giant crushing hug before inspecting her.

"You've gotten thinner," Tukson said disapprovingly.

"Leaner, not thinner," Tasha countered back. "I've been hitting the gym every day."

"Hmph, and how many guys have you beaten up?"

"About ten."

"That's my girl." Tukson grinned happily, kissing her forehead. He quickly turned to Eliza who looked at the exchange with unabashed interest. "I'll take a baker's dozen of the usual. Oh, and 5 cups of black coffee."

"Coming right up!" She quickly head over to the glass display case with the sweet rolls.

"How's work?" Tasha asked, turning to her uncle. Though not blood related, Tukson was Tasha's uncle by marriage. Tasha wasn't exactly sure of the details other than that his great-great uncle (or was it a distant cousin twice removed?) married one of her great-great-great aunt. So technically, he was her uncle twice or three times removed. It wasn't a detail that Tasha cared about though. He was the only living relative left and that bonded them closer than ever.

"Great, we're laying down the foundation," Tuskon said happily. His deep voice resonated across the room. "We should get started with the framework by next week if the boss is ready," Tukson looked around the shop admiringly. It was no secret that he had always wanted to open up his own shop. He admired and respected Birdy's hard work and dedication to get where she was now. It was one of the reasons why he would come here on the rare days he had the chance. The part time jobs he was doing were to save money to complete his dream. He told Tasha that he expected her to be his first customer when his shop opens though he still flatly refused to reveal what kind of shop he wanted.

"By the way, the boss really loves your sweet rolls. Says, he can't have them anywhere else."

"That's good. He should try the coffee cake next time."

"Sure, me and the boys will stop by after work if we have time. Oh hey, you got some flour on your cheek. Let me get that." Tuskon leaned in closer and gently brushed his scarred fingers across Tasha's cheek. He leaned in and whispered,

"Tonight."

Tasha's cheerful face darkened for a moment. She knew that tone of voice. "New lead?"

"New lead." Tukson looked like he wanted to say more but he merely finished brushing the nonexistent flour off her face. "There, that's better."

"Here you go," Eliza announced, oblivious of the hushed conversation that she interrupted. "I added an extra one. On the house!" She passed the white box over.

"Ha! You ladies are just as charming as always." Tukson winked as he took his order and walked out of the door. He looked over his shoulder and gave a cheerful grin. "Work hard Tasha!"

"Tasha, your uncle is so adorable." Eliza whispered as soon as Tukson was out of earshot. "He always pops up here at random times to check up on you."

"Yeah," Tasha said. "He is the best." But the words he had left with her continued to churn her stomach.

**Author's Notes**

Well, we got to see some familiar characters. Can anybody figure out who they were? XP

There was quite a bit of some dark stuff in the first half that I felt necessary to introduce early in the chapter though it probably left some of the readers confused. I'm actually surprise how I was able to make the transition. Well, everything will come together in the end.

Thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.

**-JapanDreamer**


	5. Red-Handed

Well, this chapter is finally up. Like I mentioned in the previous chapter, I've been incredibly busy with school work and even got sick twice. I'm amazed I still managed to function…

Anyways, enjoy!

**Chapter 5:**

Black Water Harbor was not the official name of Vale's largest port, but that was what the Red Hawks have been calling this place since the only time they gazed out at this area was in the dead of the night under a new moon. During this time, there was no clear line discerning where the water ended in the horizon and where the night sky began. Only the night light of the distant city managed to penetrate the darkness that cloaked the area. A low bellow echoed across port as the ship came into the harbor and sliced through the dark water with ease. They slapped against the harbor as waves glided over the surface of the sea.

Albert almost choked as another waft of diesel came his way. Tonight, the docks were quiet as usual with the typical eerie and chilly atmosphere. A thick white fog blanketed the port, making it almost impossible to see the ghostly shadows moving around on the looming ship. Course, he preferred it that way. The less he saw, the better.

"What they bringing in this time?" Fat Barty asked as he shifted his weight. His thick sausage fingers were wrapped tightly around his gun. He was not the brightest of the group, but what he lacked in brains, he made up in brute strength. Albert had seen Fat Barty snapped a man's arms with those fingers.

"Dunno," Albert shrugged. Illegal shipments had always been a common thing, but for the past few months, the size and frequency of cargo had increased dramatically. There were more hushed whispers and less alcohol and laughter afterwards. Even their boss was moodier than usual. Albert felt… uneasy about all this.

"Come on, we're on guard duty." He motioned his partner to continue patrol around the port area. There were several men posted in the guard tower with search lights, but those did little to ease the tension. Metal shipping crates stacked high and towered over them, turning it into a cold and unfriendly maze. He could hear Fat Barty repeatedly tapping his fingers against the gun.

"I don't know why we have to do this," Fat Barty mumbled and rolled his eyes in annoyance. However, Albert could pick up the faint distress in his partner's voice.

"Protocol. We never know when an intruder might sneak in." Albert was the complete opposite of Fat Barty. Skinny with a gaunt face, Albert was just an average sort of henchman. What he lacked in intelligence and strength, he made up for in diligence. He followed orders and made sure his fellow colleagues did as well.

"I'm telling you. This place is a ghost town… or port… or… whatever. I wouldn't mind doing this if we were being paid overtime." Despite his silent response, Albert had to agree. Fat Barty was right. There was no one here. Quiet, silent, however they want to call it, tonight was just like any other night; yet, patrol had doubled in number ever since the increase of shipments. Albert knew that they don't have to worry about cops showing up, so why all of this extra security? What were the higher ups so afraid of?

"Hey, you here that?" Fat Barty whispered nervously, his eyes darting all over the place. He continued to point at the corner on the turn. His short quickened breaths and sweaty hands showed that he was really freaking out.

Albert halted and felt his pulse quickened. Despite only hearing the ominous wind, Albert instantly lifted his gun now. Paranoia can drive people crazy, but he can never be too sure. He quickly the corner and aimed his gun. What he saw was….

"It's just a bunch of leaves," Albert sighed and lowered his weapon. He kicked the small pile. "Stop turning this into one of those cliché move things that they do. Next thing you know, we're being knocked out by some unknown assailant."

"I'm not trying to," Fat Barty protested though he sound slightly relived. "I really did hear something."

_That's what they always say_. But Albert didn't say it out loud and continued down the path.

He didn't get very far.

The next corner Albert turned; there was a sudden 'wack' and thump. Panicking, Fat Barty came over and saw his partner on the ground, unconscious. "What the-?" Suddenly, he saw a shadow from the corner of his eyes, and this time, he knew he was not hallucinating.

Panicking, Fat Barty tried to aim, but the hesitation cost him and something hard smacked him between the eyes and knocked him unconscious as well.

"Oh geez, I'm sorry. It wasn't like I was _trying_ to turn this into a cliché horror movie," Roman Torchwick sighed as he stared at the two grunts he just knocked out. He reached down and searched their pockets until he found what he wanted. He then pulled the bodies out of sight before proceeding forward.

"Great; that's going to leave a mark," he muttered as he wiped off a ketchup stain from his expensive and now nonrefundable black biker jacket. Roman was in a bad mood tonight. Despite the fact that his informant was correct for once about the location, Roman found himself dealing with other problems his mole failed to mention. Like the number of guards hanging out here or the fact he needed to be incognito. It wouldn't have been too bad if the choice of attire wasn't something a clown would wear to a heavy metal band.

The Red Hawk was an idiot gang known for sporting blood red mohawk hair and black biker clothes. What the gang lacked in brains, they made up in numbers. Like little cockroaches running around the docks that he had to stamp repeatedly before twenty scuttled over. Roman was starting to fall behind schedule, and if he didn't pick up the pace, the package will be delivered before he gets there.

"Hmph, finally," Roman snorted as he reached his destination. He hid behind a large haul of cargo and glanced at the docks. The freighter arrived right on schedule, and the ship's crew was already offloading some of the goods from the cargo hold. The large cranes bent down like boughs on a tree as they lift steel shipping containers off the top of the ship. Nothing special about them other than the fact they were all carrying illegal goods. Goods that he need to steal.

Roman glanced down at the clothes he was wearing and grimaced at the sight. Dirty and covered with hair grease, the outfits were enough to almost convince Roman to call off the entire job. Why was going undercover part of the requirement?

"YO!" Flinching, Roman immediately turned to see a red mohawk forty year old with at least twenty nose piercing on his face coming towards him.

"Yo!" The man repeated, sounding slightly drunk, "What da funk are you doing, slacking off here in these fizzy parts?"

_Yo? Da funk? Fizzy?_ Roman almost threw his hands up in the air in despair. What was this world coming to?

"Where yo pardner? Skipped out on you or-?" The guy suddenly noticed the cane attached to Roman's belt. It took a couple of seconds for him to realize that this was not a standard issue weapon for Red Hawk members. Which also meant that this guy was not a Red Hawk.

"Hey!" The guy was reaching for his gun by the time Roman fired off Melodic Cudel. The bullet knocked the weapon out of the Red Hawk member's hand. Before the teen punk could recover, Roman already closed in on the distance and slammed his cane against the ribs. The guy flew and smacked against one of the steel container before collapsing into a heap on the ground.

Roman closed in again to finish the job, but stopped short when he realized he had attracted too much attention. The crew members heard the noise and surrounded him already. Well, they were more like thugs than crew members. Their more natural hair colors told Roman that they were not part of the Red Hawks. All of them had something tattooed on their shoulder, but it was too dark for Roman to discern what they were. At the moment, he was more focused on the battle rifles pointed in his general direction.

"You have got to be kidding me." Sighing, Roman reached for his pocket and pulled out a cigar. So much for stealth. At least, he won't need to wear this getup anymore. He lit it up before he turned his attention back to the armed crew.

"Sorry for dropping in unannounced so late into the night, but I need to steal something from this ship. Would you be so kind as to step aside so I won't have to kill all of you?"

**Writer's Comment**

Well, that was probably the most polite thing Roman had said in this whole story so far. LOL. We are definitely going to be picking up in the next chapter. There is going to be more action than all the chapters I have so far put together (which is not saying much, I know).

I learned a lot about cargo and ships while writing this chapter. More than I wanted to know. Lol. If there are any terms I'm not using correctly, please let me know.

Thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.

**-JapanDreamer**


	6. Intruders

Hi guys. I am done with the school semester. I got quite a bit of writing done for the next few chapters so all that is left is a bit of editing.

Enjoy!

**Chapter 6:**

Tasha stared over the rooftop and silently watched the guards pass by her from below. The absence of usual night vision goggles strapped to their foreheads told her that they were just a bunch of hired dumb goons. They literally walked right by without so much of a glance upward. They squinted into the darkness, almost afraid to move forward. Humans were always scared of the dark.

But not Tasha. The area glowed like flames in her line of vision. She could see everything. In a way. Night vision wasn't cool as most ignorant people thought it was. Seeing in the dark has its perks, but seeing in only shades of gray, black, and white made it difficult, especially on a night like this.

"Leader, me and Windy had checked the entire east dock. The mist is making it difficult to see the entire area," a voice spoke up in Tasha's earpiece as though reading her mind. "And with no full moon, I cannot tell exactly how many guards our out here. It will only take one of them to raise the alarm. We are going in blind." Tasha could sense uneasiness in the group even though they were scattered. This mission was dangerous. They were all risking big being here. If anybody outside of this circle knows about this…

"If we can't see that means they can't see either," Leader replied, refusing to admit defeat. This voice was slightly deeper. "And it is not like we are completely blind. We need to be extra careful. That's all. " He paused for a moment before continuing in a now hushed whisper. "Don't forget, we're doing this for a reason. These human cannot get away with what they're doing."

"Humans?" Another voice interjected. This one cockier. "That's a pathetic description of them. If there was a perfect animal to describe them I say earthworms – blind and stupid." Tasha stiffened, recognizing the owner of the voice. She had a bad feeling of what he was going to say next.

"Forget stealth. We should just take the cargo and kill them. It would be literally like taking candy from a baby. Except we kill the baby as well." The morbid suggestion brought a chill down Tasha's spine.

"Hey new guy," another voice hissed in the earpiece. Female this time. It belonged to a Faunus crouched down next to Tasha. "They may be blind and stupid, but they're not deaf. Either fucking shut up and stick to the plan or fucking leave before you screw us over and I will be the one ripping your throat out." Thank goodness the new recruit took the threat seriously since there was no response from him on the line. But…

"Are you threatening my partner, Vix?"

"Want a go, Pig? Or should I turn you into porkchops?"

"P-porkchops?! I'll show y-!"

"Stop." Leader interjected. "Both of you. And Pig, remember the rule. No names."

Tasha bit her lips, feeling uneasiness welling up inside her. She didn't trust this new guy that Lynda recruited. He was getting people like Vix and Pig riled up more than usual. He was only two years younger than her, but far more dangerous and reckless. Despite his outward stoic appearance, he was filled with hatred and vengeance that blinded his judgment. It was one thing to fight back, it was another to kill. He was someone that Tasha needed to keep an eye out for.

_Just like most of them…_

"Leader," another male voice spoke up finally, "Me and Tao can move in closer if you want to risk it. How should we proceed?"

There was a long pause followed by a rush of static in Tasha's ear.

"Let's proceed with the Sweeper tactic. Remember the frequency that you are all assigned to. I don't want everybody on the main link unless it is an emergency. Remember the objective. We know that the exchange is happening tonight, so it is your job to figure out where. If you find it, report back ASAP, and if you can, _take it by any means_."

"Roger," Tasha responded along with the other twenty-five team members. She glanced at her partner who was focused on any movements down below.

"What's the plan, Moon?" While Tasha's hair was long and yellow in color, her partner's was black and worn in a short pixie style. Her dark skin blended perfectly well with the moonless night, and her eyes glowed yellow like a leopard. Yet, she was a lot like Tasha, lithe and dangerous.

"I'll take the grounds; you take the sky. Sounds good?"

"Whatever you say, Moon. Just stay safe."

"Right back at you."

Tasha immediately dropped down from the top of the roof and proceeded through the maze of crates. She glanced up just in time to see her partner flying from roof to roof. Vix was better scouting from above, making less noise than a feather.

On the other hand, Tasha walked quietly through the ship graveyard, passing old fishing nets and broken down boats. The leader highly doubted the exchange would occur at the outside perimeter, but one can never be too careful as he would say. The smell of salt and fish reeked the air.

"Silk," Tasha mumbled into her comm, "What is your status?" But all she got was static. Puzzled, she repeated again. "Silk, what is your status?" Again static.

_What was going on?_ Sensing something was terribly wrong now, Tasha tried to find higher grounds. But before she could, there was a mixture of the voices and footsteps approaching behind her. Many. At least five. Definitely human.

No good, Tasha thought as she looked at her surroundings. There were no roofs nearby to hide. Panicking slightly, she spotted a sorry looking metal crate that had one of its door ripped off of the hinges. Deciding to take the risk, she immediately slipped in. She could feel a chill running up her spine as she desperately try to remain invisible. The slow but methodical footsteps were getting louder with each heartbeat... and then softer and softer with each heartbeat. Tasha could feel her pulse slowing down. She crouched down and slowly peeked out of her hiding spot.

As she had guessed, there were five humans. They were talking rather loudly with cigarettes dangling from their mouth. They wore bulletproof vests instead of tattered jackets attire compared to the first group she came upon. There was something bulky attached to the men's belt.

Jammers.

Tasha felt like she was hit by an incoming train. That explained it. By now, everybody should realize their comm links weren't working. Some of the smarter ones like Vix might have figured out why. But the question remains how. How were they communicating? Feeling bolder, she left her hiding spot and followed the five burning cigarettes a good fifteen feet away.

"Dude, how many more hours do we have to do this?"

"I dunno. What time is it?"

"What, you don't have a watch?"

"Says the guy who wants to know how much longer our shift is?"

"Are you calling me an idiot?"

"Maybe I am."

"Stop it. Both of you are idiots." Then, she saw one of the guards pulling something out of his pocket.

_A Scroll…_

Tasha heard about these from Leader. The palm-size device was the latest thing invented from Atlas to communicate without needing a signal. Perfect when dealing with Jammers. Tasha didn't know whether to laugh or cry. As frustrated as she was to see the enemy with the upper hand, it told Tasha something else. This whole operation was just as big as they had predicted. Whoever was in charge of this operation had a lot of money and a lot to lose. However, the jammers were definitely outside of Leader's scope of predictions. Tasha definitely needed to find everybody and report her findings.

"Guys!" A loud voice suddenly interrupted the dead silence and another set of footsteps came running to the group. Tasha quickly ducked under a wooden broken boat just as a human appeared from the thin mist.

"Whoa Rick, what's the dealio?"

"They found an intruder!" The man grunted. "Maybe more."

_They spotted us already? This was a stealth mission. Who messed it up?_

"Some red headed punk just took down all our men. Come on, to the docks!" Immediately, all the grunts started running in the westward direction, leaving Tasha alone.

She should be relieved for the distraction, but she could feel her anger pulsing through her veins. There was only one person in the group with red hair. She should've known having the new recruit on this mission would ruin the plan. She tried her comm link again, but as she expected, only static responded back. With no choice now, she needed to forget stealth mode and head for the docks.

"_We should just take the cargo and kill them. It would be literally like taking candy from a baby. Except we kill the baby as well."_

"Damnit Adam."

…

"My, my, my," Roman Torchwick muttered. "They actually put up a fight this time." As much as he wanted to gloat, it was rather pointless to do so if his enemies were unconscious. Plus, there was no doubt that more coming sooner or later, and he would rather not stick around. He looked up at his target and smirked. "Which means, that whatever they have in there is valuable enough for me to steal."

**Author's Notes**

Thanks for reading. I'll see you in the next chapter.

**-JapanDreamer**


	7. Bowler Hat vs Fedora

Hi everybody! Happy Holidays and Happy New Years! I hope everybody had a good break. I managed to do some writing over the break. We're getting some decent action here.

Enjoy!

**Chapter 7:**

The diesel mixed with the salty air was messing with Tasha's sense of smell. She tried hard not to gag and focused on her surroundings with her ears and eyes. She stealthily followed the men at a reasonable distance, hoping that the mist will conceal her presence from anybody. Then, she smelled it.

Blood…

Tasha almost gagged from it and tried her best not to vomit. She could feel her blood pulsing through her skin as if they had a mind of its own.

No, No, NO! Tasha took huge gulps of breaths, refusing to let the stench overwhelm her. She dragged herself to the nearest crate and hid herself as best as she good. Breath in… and out… in… and out… After five minutes, she calmed down. She could still smell the blood, however faint, but now, she was in control.

She continued forward, following the smell this time. Soon, she came across a large pile of bodies. Her face paled at the sight. She was too late. Slowly, she noticed a dull sound reverberating across the port and looked over to see her objective.

"Stop!" The shadowy figure was deaf to Tasha's yell and continued to kick the human on the ground. There was no moon out, but the dull light from a flashlight on the ground revealed the tall figure to have red hair.

"Adam, stop this instant!" This time, the shadow stopped, turned around, and allowed the light to reveal his identity.

Tasha's eyes widened with shock. The red hair did not belong to Adam. But she still recognized the owner. And he recognized her.

"Why hello there. Fancy seeing you here again," Roman smirked, recovering first. No doubt this was the same Faunus he saw a couple of weeks ago. No one could miss that ridiculous fedora on her head. Knowing what she really was, he was able to spot the small and obscure Faunus characteristics. Her amber eyes glowed slightly in the dark, her canine teeth were more noticeable, and her nose was slightly more pointed. The swirling mist surrounded the Faunus like a shawl and somehow made her sexier than the last time he saw her.

"You." Tasha couldn't believe her eyes. Last time they met, he had one of those fancy white lapel coat and black slacks. Now his wardrobe took a 180 turn. Spiky gelled hair and black leather jacket and… nose piercing? Part of her wanted to vomit at the sight. "You are the one who the guards were talking about."

"Whoa, looks like I'm more popular than I intended to be. Guess I need a change in the plan," Roman smirked. "Speaking of popularity, I almost got arrested when we first met, thanks to you," Roman said, his voice laced with sarcasm and just enough anger to tell the Faunus that he was pissed. Tasha immediately tensed, shifting her stance.

"Now that I think about it, what's a Faunus like you doing around these parts? Running from the cops again?" Tasha didn't respond to the question. One wrong move and she would lose her chance to escape. She suddenly noticed something in Roman's hand. Her entire demeanor changed.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Tasha demanded.

"What? This?" Roman said, bringing the item up for Tasha to see. "Never pegged you as someone who loves jewelry."

Jewelry… He doesn't know what it was. "Where did you get it?" Tasha repeated again. "How you answer might depend how you end up after this."

"Whoa, easy. What this little old thing?" Roman dangled the item in front of Tasha's eyes. "Well, wouldn't you want to know Miss Fedora?"

"You got fifteen seconds to answer my question, Human," Tasha snarled. She showed her sharpened nails and canine teeth.

"Whoa, easy there. Okay, maybe I came off a little strong last time we met. We should slow down and get to know each other better. Speaking of which, we still haven't finished that conversation from earlier." Roman nodded toward Tasha's head.

"Which is it?" he asked again, lifting his cane up to Tasha's head. The reticle popped out to reveal the barrel of his cane. This time, he wasn't drunk and there was no playful smile on his face. "Dog or fox?" Tasha already moved out the way by the time Roman fired off his weapon.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Tasha had to escape to the boat before Roman stopped firing and decided to board the ship to follow. The cane was a pain in the neck. Tasha's fighting style was more focused on close-combat and apparently, this tomato-haired jerk figured it out. Any chance of her getting close, and he would run to create some distance and the whole cycle would repeat. He wasn't even giving her a fair chance.

"Lesson number one, Fedora," Roman shouted mockingly, as though reading Tasha's mind, "Criminals never play fair." That was fine with her, Tasha thought. There were other ways to play this game.

…

_Where is that mutt?_ Roman thought as he walked across the wooden deck. He should be finishing the job, but he needed to first take care of this nuisance first. It was pure instinct that he managed to block Tasha's kick with his cane though he was quite unprepared for the second one. He staggered away and by the time he steadied his cane, Tasha already melted back into the mist.

_Damn it,_ Roman thought. That Faunus had a powerful kick. It wasn't something he could block easily with his physical strength. But… now that Roman thought about it, he did have something else – his wits. He knew why she was fighting and what she was aiming for, so all he needed to do was wait and plant a trap.

"You're tough," Roman smirked. His cane left another hole on the ship's deck. "If you keep dodging, you'll end up sinking this ship!" Roman called out as he wiped the blood from his mouth.

"Then you better shoot better."

"Oh is that a challenge?" This time Roman was prepared to block Tasha's attack. He even managed to slam his cane against her arm. Before Tasha could melt back into the mist, Roman took out a vial of red powder from his pocket and threw it out of her face.

Then he ran like hell.

…

The burning smoke of unwanted memories filled Tasha's mind as she coughed. Screams filled her head as the roar of fire consumed the boat, and she found herself shaking, though not from fear. Tasha had managed to get off the ship, but not without sustaining some burns on her arms and legs. The black outfit was now riddled with holes. She never expected the human to throw such volatile Dust like that. Although it missed her face, the vial exploded upon impact on the wooden deck, causing the entire ship to go up in flames.

_A pyromaniac…_

"Lesson two, Fedora." Roman smirked before her, pleased that he managed to injure his opponent while he remained unscathed. "Expect the unexpected."

"You idiot! Do you realize you have alerted the whole shipyard?" Tasha could only hope now that the rest of the group had decided to abort the mission despite being unable to communicate.

"I think I already did that after I blew several holes in that ship. Besides, I don't particularly care what happens now I have what I want," Roman said, dangling the item yet again, in front of Tasha's eyes.

"Give that back!"

"Give it back? May I remind you that it was never yours in the first place?"

Tasha's eyes flashed angrily in the dark, but she didn't yell anymore. Instead she whispered, "You know, you really brought up really bad memories with that stunt you pulled."

"What did you say Fedora?" Roman yelled, "I can't hear you from over my gloating."

Tasha ripped her glove off her hand. "You want to know what animal I am? I'll show you what animal I am." Her teeth pierced her skin and warm blood filled her mouth.

However, she never got to show what she wanted to show. Powerful gusts of winds distracted Roman. He looked up and smiled. "And look, right on schedule. There is my ride." It took a long second for Roman to realize that the Bullhead did not belong to his employer. And something flashed in the night sky.

"What the-?" Roman never got to finish his sentence as the sudden laser beam fired at them.

Tasha had just enough time to look up before the crates came crashing down on her.

…

Two figures opened the side door of the Bullhead and slid down on harnesses until their feet touched solid ground. They lifted their automatic weapons and checked quickly for their surroundings. The wreckage was pretty standard for one laser beam. There was a large scorch mark on the ground and the metal crates that had been neatly piled were now strewn across the docks, dented and useless. The two soldiers knew that this much evidence would take lots of money and a high authority to cover up, but considering what was at stake, they knew their leader could risk it. He had a lot to lose if this item got out.

One of them took out a special device from his belt. It emitted a faint but sharp pitch sound that squealed louder and louder as he moved closer and closer to the wreckage. Finally, the device squealed loud like a bad opera singer and pulse a bright red color. He looked down and recognize the objective he saw as a drawing just moments ago. He turned off the device and gently handled the item as he was instructed. He inspected all sides and was pleased to see not a single crack.

"Good news sir. It is still intact," the man replied into his Scroll and gently placed it in the black box produced by his partner. The night was pierced with the shrieking sounds of sirens in the air.

"Cops. Let's move." The two men were quickly pulled back up into the Bullhead. All the while, they kept glancing at the box, making sure that it held the item securely in there.

…

The Bullhead didn't stay long to make sure it had eliminated the enemies. Which was a good thing for Roman. The sky was back to its usual black color when he staggered out of the wreckage.

"Drap," Roman cursed under his breath, hearing the familiar sirens screeching through the night. He predicted ten minutes tops to escape or else he would find himself surrounded and arrested. He stumbled up to his feet and grimaced at the mess before him. He didn't expect them to aim for those crates. Death by cargo. Oh wouldn't that be a lovely inscription on his tombstone.

"Sorry boys, I'm not in the mood to die just yet." He looked up darkly at the night sky for a moment before turning his attention back on Earth. He needed to get out of here fast. Just as he was about to leave, he noticed something on the ground. He reached down and picked it up.

"Hmph, where is your owner," Roman scoffed as he twirled the fedora hat with his finger. He grimaced at the sight of the wreckage but immediately started to pull the debris aside till he found what he was searching for.

Her blond hair spilled across the concrete ground like golden threads. It glimmered under the faint light; her ears prominent despite the shadows. Apprehensively, Roman poked the Faunus with the tip of his cane. She groaned in response but remained unconscious.

So she was still alive. Must be because of those insane Faunus reflexes he kept hearing about. But in the end, reflexes don't matter if she wasn't conscious enough to get out of here. No doubt she'll be arrested and then put as a scapegoat for this incident.

The red and blue lights were flashing brighter and brighter as the sirens wailed through the night. The cops were finally here and surprisingly faster than he expected. Roman stared at the unconscious Faunus before him.

What to do, what to do….

**Author's Notes**

Urgh, took forever to write that fight scene. I need to find some manual on how to write this stuff.

Moving on, it appears things are not looking well for Tasha. And this mysterious item will come into play later on. I think we're going to start getting to the meat of things, so to speak.

Anyways, thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.

**-JapanDreamer**


	8. Doctor

Well, managed to find some time to write.

Enjoy!

**Chapter 8:**

Bright lights… _REALLY_ bright lights…

Tasha blinked and tried to shake the glare away from her line of sight. But they persisted and it wasn't until she groaned in irritation that they dissipated.

"Good to see you awake." The light disappeared and she tentatively opened her eyes.

_A human… with a white coat…_

Unconsciously, Tasha reached for the man's throat before she could comprehend her surroundings and realized she was in restraints.

"Good thing I had them up," the human gave a sigh of relief though he didn't look a bit surprise of Tasha's sudden outburst.

"YOU! Release me!"

"And have you rip my throat out? I'm not stupid Miss Faunus."

"Then you should know I can still rip it out whether or not you release me." Tasha growled angrily. The man merely stood there; his face remained stoic. There was such a long pause that Tasha started to wonder if he saw through her empty threat. Then, all of a sudden, he pressed a button on his desk. The restraints on Tasha's arms and legs disappeared. "There, happy?" The human leaned back in his swivel chair and started to read one of his files lying on top of his messy desk.

"Are you feeling nauseous? Any chills?"

Puzzled, Tasha lowered her guard. She could feel her pulse slowing down as she inspected the human before her. He was rather average looking and wore clothes that looked as if it came from a second-hand store. Although clean-shaven, the human had bed hair and a chewed up pencil logged behind his ear. He was older, at least in his forties, and had a rather large Roman nose that was bent out of shape.

"Who are you?"

The man gave a strange look before replying, "Doctor." He took a cigarette from his white coat pocket and lit it. "So, feel like throwing up or not?"

"No… Wait, Doctor who?"

"Just Doctor. Simple, and to the point. I prefer not to exchange names. Or at least real ones. You look a little bit too surprised. Never met a doctor?"

"Your office suggests otherwise." The entire place was dank and not a scent of fresh air. Definitely underground.

"I can show you my license I got back at Atlas. Before it was revoked of course."

"You're an underground doctor." Tasha heard of them from the whispered gossips. These special surgeons only spoke through money. No matter if you're a crime lord or a dirty cop, underground surgeons would always be there to patch them up, no question asked.

"Well, I highly doubt you want to check in a legitimate hospital. You would've woken up handcuffed to your bed." He allowed the statement to sink in before continuing, "You had a concussion and some bruises. Not too serious. You were bleeding from your left torso, but when I looked at it, the wound was healed. I'm actually surprise at the rapid healing. Pretty fast even in Aura standard. Guess there are some perks to being a Faunus."

"Faunus don't have rapid healing powers."

"Oh?" Now the Doctor looked interested. "So rapid healing is your Semblance?" Tasha didn't reply and merely glowered back. "Sorry, my bad. I usually, have a don't-ask-questions policy, but I've never had a Faunus for a patient before. Don't know enough to understand the different autonomy structures and physiology. Still, I hate to have you being the first of your kind to die at my table." Tasha blinked in surprise at the last statement, but managed to keep a straight face.

"Thank you for helping me," Tasha said grudgingly.

"Whoa, backup." Doctor held up his hand as if to block the kind words from coming towards him. He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray littered with weeks old cigarettes and ash. "Help? Help usually means doing things out of kindness. You actually thought I helped you out as a charity cause?"

"What?"

"I'm an underground doctor. In other words I stich people up. For a price. And I don't come cheap. I am expecting a million liens from you."

"Excuse me?! For a concussion?"

"You should see how much I charge for gunshot wounds. And don't tell me that's not fair. I charge the same for anyone coming through my doors. Isn't it what you Faunus want? Equality no matter what?" Doctor grinned. Tasha glared back, wondering if the human was joking or not. She was starting to dislike him again.

But most importantly, she didn't have that kind of money. A million liens?! She heard stories of people having their organs disappeared when they couldn't foot the bill. Now she was wondering if those rumors were true.

"Kidding. Well, not about the bill, but about you needing to pay." The Doctor grabbed his files and cleaned the table.

"What?" Now Tasha was confused.

"Your bill has already been paid."

"By who?" Tasha asked, bewildered.

"The person who brought you to me. Reminded me of the favor I owe him. Though I'm surprise that he would use his favor like this. You must be important to him somehow." Tasha racked her brain of who could this person be. Tuskon? No, the man said person, so it must be human. But… she didn't know any humans well enough to save her. The last thing she remembered was fighting against… Oh no…

"Which reminds me… Hey Romeo!" Doctor yelled at the slightly open door. "The patient is up."

The door opened, and Tasha's face turned from shock to pure rage.

"YOU!" This time, there was nothing to impede Tasha's path as she grabbed her "savior's" throat. He had changed back into his usual white coat and bowler hat.

"Oi! What the hell are you do-ack!" Roman gagged as he tried to pry off Tasha's fingers from his neck.

"Well, it looks like you two need some alone time," Doctor said nonchalantly as if he was excusing himself from a tea party. "I'll be in the other room if you need me." Tasha ignored Doctor's calm escape and glared at the red-haired benefactor.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip your throat out," Tasha growled. Roman only replied back with gasps though it wasn't from the lack of trying. Noticing that the now purple-face Roman was unable to breathe let alone talk, Tasha loosed her grip around his throat ever so slightly.

"Cause I saved you?" Roman managed to choke out. There was a long silence before he fell unceremoniously, butt on the ground.

"You have a rather strong death grip there," Roman grimaced as he rubbed his neck. "That's going to leave a mark."

"Why?"

"Well, that's usually what happens when you let a woman dig her nails into your neck. Though I must say, I let women do this to me for other reasons. Catch my drift?"

"That's not what I'm asking," Tasha turned to stare down at the man before her. Gosh, it was times like these that she hated humans. They talked like screechy parrots. "Why did you save me?"

_Good question._ Roman was starting to question that as well, but he responded with, "Curiosity may have killed the cat, but in this case, it saved the wolf." Tasha's face remained stoic, not laughing at that pathetic witticism.

"No? Crossing the line there?"

"Shut up," Tasha said, rubbing the temples of her head. "You're giving me a headache."

"Oh I'm sorry," Roman said, getting up and brushing the dust off his white coat. He seemed rather unfazed by the rough treatment he got so far. "I was just expecting a 'thank you' at the least for saving your life."

"I didn't ask you to save me."

"Ah, yes, so sorry. I should've asked your unconscious body first. How silly of me."

"Wait, where is it?" Tasha said, reaching for Roman's collar, but Roman was prepared and quickly evaded.

"Where is what?"

"The Red Shard!"

"Red… shard? Oh, that Dust crystal?" Roman said, recalling the little trinket he was asked to steal. He remembered this wolf Faunus flipping out when she saw it in his hand. "Gone. Taken by those men who tried to kill us."

"What? You let them have it!"

"Uhh, wasn't part of the plan, but it was either play dead and let them have it or be shot at and _really_ be dead."

"Fool! You don't understand!"

"Whoa, easy there!" Roman said, backing away. "Look, the cops were coming and I could've left you there for them. Can we just… take a chill Dust? What's so important about that shard anyways?"

"You stole it without realizing its importance?"

"Uhh, yeah, that's my line of business. So, again, what's the big deal? Why is everybody obsessed about it?"

Tasha looked as if she wanted to strangle Roman, but held back. "I don't know."

"You don't know either?"

"I don't know why it is important, but someone I need to find wants it."

"Ah, planning to steal it as bait. Impress him maybe? Who is this charming fellow that has stolen your interest from me?"

Tasha didn't respond. She instead headed to the door. She already had her answer and now she needed to get back home before her roommate called to file a missing Faunus report. She wrenched the door open and found Doctor leaning against the wall with another cigarette in his mouth.

"Leaving already?" Doctor said. "You really should stay overnight for observation. It will cost you extra though. Course, doesn't matter to me either way."

"Where is the exit?"

"Go down this hallway and turn left. You'll find a set of staircase leading up to Miles St. You know how to get home from there?" Tasha ignored the question and walked down the hall. The emptiness echoed the sound of her boots against the concrete floors.

"Wait, you forgot something!" Tasha turned around just in time to catch the item Roman tossed towards her.

"Can't forget your signature look," Roman said. There was a cool smirk on his face as he watched Tasha glare back. She turned away, not once looking back behind her.

"Now that I think about it, she never did say thank you to me," Roman said, still keeping his eyes in the direction where Tasha left.

"Got to say, I was a bit surprised you came here to use your favor on her," Doctor said, turning away as soon as Tasha was out of sight. "But now I see why."

"What are you talking about," Roman smirked. "I always help people in need."

"Romeo, let me make one thing clear," Doctor said as he stubbed his cigarette out with his foot. His voice was calm, but there was now a chill emanating from his voice. "What you do with your own life is none of my business. But if you get her killed, I swear I will find you and make your life miserable."

"Whoa, got a little crush on our patient don't we? Last time I checked, that's against the rules."

"I don't give a damn about that Faunus. Don't care what she likes or dislikes. Don't care what she believes in. Don't care if she is just like you. What I _do _give a damn is if the lives I am paid to save are just so they can used as expendables. You got that, Romeo?" The man's dark grey eyes flared with a rather fiery anger Roman had never seen before.

"Doctor, need I remind you that whatever happens outside of the operation table is not in your jurisdiction," Roman said. He still had the same amusing tone, but it was laced with irritation. "Whatever your patients do outside is out of your control."

"And you do well to remember that you are currently in my jurisdiction and what I say goes. So if you want to come back here if you ever find yourself in need of a doctor, you do well to heed my warning." With that, the man pointed to another hallway that was invisible in darkness if not for the one dim lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. "Now get the hell out of my clinic. I'm a busy man."

"Yes sir Doctor. I'll keep in touch," Roman said, pulling out a cigar from his breast pocket. He lit it up and allowed the light to guide him through the darkness. Inside his pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper and reread the profile of a familiar person. Or rather, Faunus. Now that he knew her real name, finding her would be a cinch.

As much as he hated the idea of losing an interesting acquaintance, he could always find another doctor. Right now, he had more important things to think about.

"We'll be seeing each other again real soon, Miss Fedora."

**Author's Notes**

You don't know how much I enjoyed writing Torchwick's dialogue for this chapter.

Thanks for reading. See you in the next chapter.

**-JapanDreamer**


	9. Coffee and News

School has been eating up majority of my writing time. Chapters are slow, but I will do my best to update as much as I can.

Thanks for your patience.

Enjoy!

**Chapter 9:**

Blue Collar (BC for short) got his nickname from the blue collar shirt he wore every day since his first day of training. His real name was Logan, but no one in the precinct called him that. Not even the new recruits.

Today was no exception for him as he walked into the bullpen. He had a crisp blue collar shirt buttoned to his neck and a boring black tie. In his hands were his usual cup of coffee and a box of fresh donuts. Unsurprisingly, his partner magically appeared next to him.

"BC, I could kiss you," Richard joked pretending to swoon at the sight of food.

"How about you kiss my butt and get back to work?"

"Ouch, what got under your skin?"

"We've been assigned to the night shift for the next few weeks. I haven't seen my daughter for almost a month, and I am in no mood to talk until I drink my tenth cup of coffee," Blue Collar shot back, shoving the box of donuts into his partner's face. Richard was a chubby man with the speed of a dead slug unless it involved food. He already shoved five donuts into his mouth.

"You know you dug yourself into this mess," Richard said when he managed to open his mouth without food flying out. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't punched Brad. You're lucky you still have a job. Actually, I should thank you for doing that because I would've punched him if you hadn't."

Frustrated, BC tossed his notepad onto his desk and leaned against his swivel chair as he felt the exhaustion of last night. He glanced at his desk and grimaced. Today was just like what has been going on for the past year – piles of unsolved cases piled up on every officer's desk. Normally, BC didn't mind and was always determined to tackle every case, but with the DA breathing down on everybody's neck and telling him what to do… Worst of all, these cases were the same type. BC drained his cold cup of coffee that sat there since last night. The fog in his mind started to clear up and he started to feel like his old self.

"Give it up. You should stop going to the Projects," Richard said, seeing the tired look in his partner's eyes. "Those animals aren't going to give you anything."

"First of all, Richard, they're not animals. Second, it is called the Residential District. And third, they are just as worried as we are about the situation."

"That doesn't mean they'll trust you."

"I already have someone who wants to help."

"Oh yeah, your 'big informant'." Richard said, making air quotes. Powdered sugar from his fingers sprinkled to the dirty floor like snowflakes. "The one you can't talk about."

"Hey," BC glared, not appreciating his partner's sarcasm. Richard was an okay guy, but he had a bit of a mouth that can irritate anyone, especially on a bad day. "One can make a huge difference."

"One," Richard snorted, "is not enough. At least not for you to get the extra hands you want from Chief." He licked the powdered sugar off his finger and picked up the donut box. "I'm heading to the break room. Wanna come?" BC turned back to his desk and wondered if the pile of folders had somehow multiplied while they were talking. It was going to be another long day. Ten cups of coffee was definitely not enough.

"Yeah." The two got up and headed over the break room. It was not a welcoming place with its plastic chairs and grimy walls and floors. Three of their buddies were already there and had their eyes glued to the TV screen until they saw BC and Richard come in.

"Rich, you asshole," one of the men groaned when he saw the donut box in Richard's arm. "You ate all of it didn't you?"

"Of course not Greg. I saved the lemon one just for you."

"I'm allergic to lemon."

"I know."

"News about us again." Marcus motioned BC to the tiny screen. Unlike Richard, Marcus had the body of an athlete or a male model. His bulging muscles and silver crewcut hair got him voted as the most handsome man in the office. He was good at his job too; currently holding second in solved crimes. However, he had an empty look in his dark eyes that made BC felt uneasy every time they talked.

"Turn it up. I want to hear what other shitty things the people have to say about us." Richard grabbed a plastic seat and plopped himself into it. Someone grabbed the remote and punched the volume button. The news reporter's voice resonated through the breakroom.

"Dr. Gepetto's twelve year-old daughter, Penelope, has been missing for over six months. Police officers have given up on the search for the little girl, but Dr. Gepetto refused to believe the worst outcome. He has increased the reward to 500,000 liens in hopes to bring his little girl back home safely." There was a picture of the little girl plastered on the screen. She had red curly hair and freckles across her dimpled cheeks.

A pang of sadness hit Blue Collar's heart. His own daughter had that same innocent smile she greeted him with every time he came home from work.

"They're wrong. Kid was eleven, not twelve," Richard mumbled, looking unhappy.

"Someone is bound to come out now with new information. I just know it," Optimistic Frank said from the other side of the room and sipped his coffee. Blue Collar took notice of Frank's constant use of the present tense. True to his unofficial title, Optimistic Frank was the guy who saw the cup half full instead of half empty. It can drive some of the officers insane, but with everything that had been going on; they needed someone to look on the bright side more than ever.

The police had been under huge scrutiny after failing to retrieve the daughter of renowned billionaire and philosopher Dr. Gepetto. The media raged about how incompetent they were and talked a lot about what they should've done. Yet, they fail to realize that the police did everything. What could they have done any different? Penelope vanished into thin air and was never heard from again. No eyewitnesses, no traces of evidence, no nothing. Last seen going to the store to buy a birthday present for her dad. At this point, everybody was suspecting a runaway case. At least those who still believed she was alive and well. Still, the media needed someone to blame, and they certainly weren't going to point the finger at Dr. Gepetto.

"You would think it was a standard kidnapping," Marcus said. He was the sarcastic one of the group, and unfortunately, seemed to be unable to turn it down during sensitive times. "Instead, no ransom demands. Guess the kidnappers forgot that step in the plan. We're doing our jobs, why can't they do theirs correctly?" There was a snort of laughter though it was more out of disparagement. BC couldn't handle it anymore. He got his new cup of coffee and left his partner and colleagues to their usual complaints.

BC's face paled when he saw a fresh stack of folders on his desk. Forget doubling, the cases were quadrupling in number. He was about to sit down at his desk when he spotted a familiar face coming out of his office.

"Chief Frauss!" BC called out to his superior.

"Good morning BC. Punched anybody today?" Chief Frauss was a large man though it was due to pure muscle. His head was shiny and pink though he compensated the baldness with a rather large handlebar mustache and goatee. Although he had twenty years of military experience as Sergeant and still a beast in the boxing ring, Chief Frauss had a curved back when dealing with _his _superiors and any politicians. He never was a man to stand up for what was right unless he knew he had someone backing him up and, unfortunately, that made him clash quite a bit with BC.

"No sir," BC said, not rising up to the bait, "Chief, these cases. I was wondering if-?"

"Look, Detective BC, I'm going to say this only one more time," Captain Frauss sighed, knowing already where this was going, "We have these case files because according to law, these Faunus are citizens of this city. We have to take in their concerns and promise to look into it. However, if you haven't noticed, this pile here-" He placed the fresh stack of folders onto BC's desk "-is what we are really concern about."

"Chief," BC said carefully, "I know what they want but-"

"No. You don't know. That's why you're working in the field and not behind a desk and having drinks and force yourself laughing with the big guys. Focus on _these_," Captain interrupted, poking the top of the second pile with the tip of his index finger, "because when these cases are not solved, it affects us worse than this pile. I have the DA breathing down my back since that Penelope case. You got that?"

"No, I don't… _Sir_," BC said fuming. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or that he needed to drink 12 cups of coffee instead of 11, but BC snapped. Immediately, the entire bullpen quieted. Even the ringing phones seemed to fade away into the background. BC could see a muscle twitching on Captain Frauss' face, but even that didn't stop him.

"These kidnappings are happening to both humans and Faunus. You say those Faunus are a bunch of runaways or whatever, but the numbers don't add up. If we take the time to listen to them, we could probably find a connection. Why is it so hard to try and talk to them? There are good Faunus out there, just like there are people out there. Why are you so afraid of the media and the DA that you can't do the right thing for once?!" There was an audible gasp from one of the secretary. One of the junior officers was actually cowering behind a table. Everybody from the breakroom suddenly materialized as well, wondering what the commotion (or lack of) was about.

"One more word from you and I'll have your badge," Captain Frauss growled quietly. BC yelled when he was angry; Frauss was the opposite. "You are off the kidnapping cases. Detective Richard will work with Detective Marcus. Detective BC, you will go to Vale Port. There was an explosion there last night, and I want you to assist Agent Teresa until you learn how to cool off. Until then, don't come back here." Without another word, Captain Frauss left BC to fume in the spotlight. Everybody else scattered back to their job. None dared to look at BC in the eye.

"BC, are you out of your mind?" Richard whispered, hurrying over to his partner. "I don't mean what you said, but saying that to the Captain's face… you're lucky he hasn't fired you yet."

BC didn't respond and grabbed his jacket and badge.

"BC!"

"I'm heading to Vale Port. Make sure you and Marcus talk with Claire again about her daughter. She may have some new information on where she might have gone."

"What are you talking about? We're partners. You know that right? BC? BC?!"

Leaving his partner behind, BC stormed out into the cool morning air. There was a light morning mist in the air, forcing BC to pull down his cap. Captain Frauss may have taken him off the kidnapping cases but that wasn't going to stop him.

_That is the difference between you and me Frauss,_ BC thought as he climbed into the police car and started the engine.

**Author's Notes**

New character introduction. Question is, what role will he play if any?

We'll start picking up on the story in the next chapter. I have a good draft written out and now it is just needs some serious editing.

Thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.

**-JapanDreamer**


	10. Unsavory Discussions

Hi everybody!

I took some time with this chapter because of its importance, and I had to do quite a bit of rewriting as a result.

Enjoy!

**Chapter 4:**

_Vale Port…_

Crime scene tapes were all over the heavily guarded area, but one of the officers let BC through when he flashed his badge. The air was mixed with the smell of salt and rotten fish and garbage. Not pleasant, but BC had been in places that reeked even worse than here.

There was a lively sort of activity going on at the moment. Forensic was dusting for prints and taking pictures. A couple of officers were at the side asking questions to workers. However, BC knew too well that the responses were all going to be along the lines of – "I didn't see anything. I know nothing."

BC walked towards a familiar person who was talking to someone with her back towards him.

Agent Theresa…

With simple brown bob hair, she was a five-foot four woman with high standards. She wore a black blazer and a lethal Dust Magnum strapped to the side of her hip. Despite being hot-headed when chasing and arresting bad guys, she was probably the coolest when leading a field investigation. That is, if the people working here weren't so incompetent…

"What do you mean you didn't check the top of the containers?" Agent Theresa snarled, glaring at the forensic analyst before her. Her green eyes narrowed like a hawk, ready to strike without warning.

"Mam, we didn't think it was important. The explosion was here. Besides… there are a lot of them… It'll take all day."

"Well, I say it is," Theresa said, "So even if it takes you all day, get your men up there and start checking before I strap you up there myself."

"Tough as always," BC called out, watching the man scamper away. "Though I would've checked the containers as well. Perfect place to avoid the night patrol. Especially with last night's weather."

"Detective BC. Got the memo," she said calmly, without turning her head away from the scene. "You got some balls to say something like _that_ to the Captain."

"Word still travels fast." BC stood next to his new 'boss' and surveyed the harbor. BC towered over the woman, but her demeanor gave off a more lethal and dangerous vibe. "What's going on? It looks like a circus."

"What is going on is that I have been here since four in the morning to deal with a possible arsonist attack. The ship-" Theresa pointed to the one docked by the harbor and the only one charred – "was almost sunk by a red Dust explosion and we have another one that caused this pile of crates to crash down into an unpleasant heap.

"It took a while, but we removed them all. No bodies, but one of the techs found blood. Already sent to DNA lab."

"Terrorist?" BC asked as he took out his usually notepad and pen. He quickly jolted down some notes.

"Not likely," Theresa shook her head, "Blood was minimal. No deaths, and the location really isn't ideal to spread panic. The first responders on the scene managed to arrest a couple of Red Hawks. They're back at the station and being interrogated as we speak."

"Red Hawks?" BC looked up surprised. "What are they doing all the way out here?"

"My guess is smuggling, but I can't say what at the moment. We're going through the shipping containers and checking with the log."

"Well, it is either Dust or weapons," BC shrugged his shoulders, "Doesn't seem like anything else."

"Agent Theresa?" Another officer appeared with a piece of paper. "The preliminary analysis of the explosion is done."

"What do we have?"

"Well, so far the only thing we came up with is that the explosion is not due to a Dust bomb."

"Not Dust?" Theresa looked mildly surprised. "Then what caused all this damage?"

"The explosion on the ship _was_ caused by a dust bomb. We found some glass shards so we're suspecting the standard Burn Dust type. But the one that caused the damage here with these cargo… well, it is Dust, but the explosion was more direct. Like a laser. You don't get that with a bomb."

"A laser?"

"At least we think so. We've never seen such power like this before though… Jake knows a bit of math and physics so he calculated the estimated trajectory of where it came from and it seems like… well, it came from the sky. Like from an airship or-"

"A Fury Raider," Agent Theresa and Detective BC said simultaneously.

"Excuse me?" the forensic guy said, perplexed.

"A weapon newly developed in Atlas and is the only weapon that can pack power to take out anything in a five mile radius, but still be light enough to be attached to a Bullhead." Theresa explaind briefly.

"But," the tech said, confused, "is it possible that they were on an airship and used a Welder? The damage would be about the same."

"Whoever blew up the area here must have used a Bullhead. A standardized airship is too large and too slow," BC said, contemplating the situation as well, "while the Bullhead is smaller, faster, and has more room for maneuverability."

"Okay, so it is this Fury Raider that caused the damage. What seems to be the problem?" The forensic guy asked, not understanding the grim looks. "We can just look at sales of this Fury Raider and see what pops up right?"

"That is the problem. This scenario… is impossible." BC shook his head. "As far as I know, Fury Raiders is not available on the market yet. And if there was a sale going on the black market, I've would've heard something about it…"

"This is bad," Theresa muttered.

"What? Know something I don't?"

"Have a file ready in an hour," Theresa said to the forensic guy, ignoring BC's question. "Get all of the data and proof needed to prove that this was not a bomb but an aerial strike. I want all those crates analyzed as well. This is now top priority."

"Yes mam."

"Eric!"

"Yes boss?" A tall and pale Asian man who had just finished talking to an officer came over and nodded briefly at BC.

"I want the DNA results back from the lab. Tell them I requested it. Also, I want you to interrogate the Red Hawks personally. I don't care if you break any bones. Make sure you get them to tell you what the hell happened here."

"You got it boss."

"Agent Theresa," BC said quietly, "A regular Dust bomb and a Fury Raider. Two different modes. We need to ask ourselves why that's the case."

"There must have been competition," Theresa mumbled. "And the worst kind."

"Well, when you have things figured out, let me know. I will head back to my car for a nap if you need anything."

"Not so fast BC. You and I are going to do the most important dangerous job."

"Really? And what's that?"

"We still have other people to interview and let's just say that they are the less savory than the ones you are used to."

"_Less_ savory?" BC laughed, "Theresa, I have dealt with a lot of shady people from all parts of Vale. Illegal Dust dealers, thieves, murderers, and gang members. I've been shot, stabbed, and almost blown up once. Who could be less savory than them?"

Theresa told him; BC's face paled.

"Oh… that sort of people…"

**Author's Notes**

Who are these unsavory people? Seems like Agent Theresa and BC are going to be dealing with someone unpleasant.

Thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.

**-JapanDreamer**


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